katleept

Title: "Undead Bliss"
Author: Pirate Turner
Dedicated To: My Spikey, who's been wanting me to write a new Spike fic for some time now
Rating: R for nudity and referenced sexual content
Summary: Spike finally finds his match with a very surprising woman.
Warnings: Het, Crossover, AU
Word Count: 1,674
Date Written: 16 March, 2011
Challenge/Prompt: For the Writers_Choice LJ comm's weekly challenge
Disclaimer: All characters used within are © & TM their rightful owners, not the author; are used without permission; and may not be used without permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Spike sat in the shadows of the hotel room, admiring his latest masterpiece. She lay, sprawled, across the bed they had shared, her big, black eyes closed as sunlight flittered through the gently blowing curtains onto her lovely, even if different, face. Her long, pale legs were still curled behind her, and her head lay at an awkward angle from her body. Her ebony hair stretched in pools around her head, falling off of the bed and dragging the floor slightly. The marks of his teeth were still plain upon her throat, and Spike licked his lips in remembrance.

In a way, however, his latest score had almost been a let down. She had been so great the night before, and she had certainly taken him by surprise. He had thought her legend was true and, even when faced with her, would have never taken her to be a fake. He had not heard her heart beat a single time, and the smell of their blood was strong upon her. She had also not turned from him when he had shifted and revealed his true nature but had teased him gently, wanting to know where her hunk had gone and then quickly reassuring him that, despite her pitiful joke, she still liked and wanted him.

Spike's upper lip pulled back from his mouth in a silent snarl. It wouldn't have mattered if she had wanted him. He would have taken her any way for she'd all but given herself to him already. But she had been okay with his Vampire side. For the first time in centuries, a woman outside of Drusilla and his other pet Vampiresses had not screamed at him, turned from him in disgust, or demanded he be something more or less than what he was. She had accepted him without qualm and welcomed him into her arms and the nearest bed.

She had been fun, he thought, his dark eyes dancing whimsically as he remembered. She had matched him in everything, and then given him more, bringing more from him in return than he'd thought himself to still possess. It had been the best sex he'd ever had, but when he had buried his fangs into her throat, bringing a louder scream of ecstasy from her, he had been startled to find actual blood flowing into his mouth. Her blood had been sweet, and in a second, both angered and saddened by the fact that she'd pretended to be more than she was, he had taken her.

Now, she lay before him in the dawn of a new day, naked, glistening, beautiful, and dead. She had to be dead now, though he still wondered why he'd not heard her heart beat the night before. Yet she could not possibly be a true Vampiress and possess her own blood circulating in her veins. Such could not be real. He shrugged and took another puff of his cigarette. Of course, he'd also been told plenty times that a Vampire couldn't have a soul and that he himself couldn't have a heart or any morals without having such a soul though he did.

He'd never admit it again, but there were certain things from his past of which he was no longer proud. He might not have a soul like the great, blithering Poof, but he was still haunted by the screams of the children he had slain. On occasion, even the rare, grown innocent crept into his mind to bother him. Right now, he was wondering if the woman before him was going to add herself to that long list. Maybe he shouldn't have done it. Maybe he shouldn't have taken everything she had and left her a vegetable, but she had tasted so wonderfully sweet.

He ran a black-painted thumb over his dark lips, collecting the last remainants of her delectable juice, and sucked the liquid from his thumb. He hadn't tasted anything that good since the last time he'd eaten a child, and she surely was no child. Her legend and feats were renowned through both the Vampire and mortal worlds, and clearly, none of them actually knew what she was . . . until last night. Oh, there were plenty of guesses, both tame and wild, and she had legions of fans. But until last night, when he'd bitten her, no one had really known that the great Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, was not a Vampire and yet also not human. What had she been? he wondered yet again. She'd had no heart beat, and yet she'd still had her own blood. No matter how many times he pondered the question, it still didn't make any sense.

He finished his cigarette and put the butt out on the nearby dresser. He slapped his booted foot against the floor and rose to leave. What was done was done. There was no turning back. There never had been for him, and there never would be. He was a man who acted purely on his instincts, and that manner of acting, whereas it might never get him slayed, would always be responsible for killing others less than he. "It was good havin' ya, babe," he murmured and turned to leave.

Elvira's black eyes popped open, and her smile curved over her face in a flash of devious mischievousness. "Leaving so soon? I didn't peck you as the type to claim a ghoul and then run."

Spike whirled back around, his long trench coat flapping around him as he moved, and gazed at her in open-mouthed shock. Her smile grew, and she winked from where she lay on the bed. "Don't leave your mouth hanging like that, Spikey. I might taste good, but you wouldn't want a fly in there."

Spike shut his mouth and stared down at her. He could have sworn she was dead! She'd had no heartbeat, and he knew that he'd taken the last of her blood! Yet here she was, looking up at him, talking, and flirting all over again! He sat down hard and watched as she swung her sensual body around and sat opposite from him on the bed whose black, satin sheets remained tangled behind her. "You thought I was dead," she observed.

He nodded speechlessly. No woman had ever floored him like this, and yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his mouth to work to form any coherent thoughts! At last, he managed to demand, "H-How?"

Elvira shrugged her delicate, pale shoulders as she stood and stretched. Spike's tongue touched the top of his ebony lips at the sight. "Oh, don't bore me with the details," Elvira nearly purred. Then she shrugged her shoulders and shook her bare, luscious breasts at him. "I'm the ghoul with the Mostest, and I don't need any anatomy lessons to know that I'm different. Yes, I'm a Vampire, and I'm a ghoul, and certainly no human. But yeah, I've got blood too, or I did until last night." She winked at him. "Don't know if it'll come back or not, but I couldn't care less if it doesn't. You drinking my blood was one of the most erotic things that I've ever had done." She shook herself at him again, performing a seductive shimmy, as her bewitching, black eyes called him back to their bed.

Spike rose slowly, still staring at her in disbelief. There were a million questions in the Vampire's mind, and yet he knew his Vampiress had none of the answers, though they were all about her, and would be bored stiff if he approached her with them. He strode forward to her side, still gazing at her in wide-eyed wonder. He touched her beautiful face gingerly, wondering if this was all just a dream or if he wasn't simply entirely batty.

"You are batty," she told him, grinning mischievously and her dark eyes sparkling. "So am I, and there's nothing I'd rather be." Except maybe, she thought, back in his arms. The Billy Idol look alike before her was completely psycho, but then the best men always were. He'd certainly treated her better the night before than any one else she'd ever had, and she looked forward to taking him for another wild ride.

She leaned her face into his palm, her black lips brushing softly against his tender, cool flesh. "You thought I'd freak last night when you showed me what you really are. I didn't. Now you know my mystery. Does it matter any more to you than your being a good Vampire matters to me?"

"A good Vampire," Spike mused aloud, repeating her words in wonder.

"Yeah," she said, grinning. "I know all about you, William the Bloody. I've heard your tale just as you've heard mine. I know you used to kill humans with railroad spikes, and I know you've been trying to be good for that damn, little Slayer for a while. Your past doesn't matter, and I couldn't care less if you were good or evil. I like you for you."

Spike stared at her. Nobody had ever told him that before in all his life or afterlife. The woman before him certainly was one of a kind. "And I," he said, grinning fully at last and the tips of his fangs shimmering excitedly, "like you for you, Mistress of the Dark."

Elvira grinned, her own fangs showing. "Then take me as I am," she challenged, and he did again all day and night long. The Vampires had never had any one like each other before. They met one another perfectly, striving each other constantly to new heights, and when they did come crashing back down and relaxed in one another's arms, they both knew the fact they'd been waiting for all their existences. Finally they had some one who didn't care to learn every inch of their mysteries or to change them, some one who took them as they were, and in that and each other, they found the undead bliss for which they'd been waiting forever!

The End